


Hard to Hate

by meet_me_onthe_equinox



Category: Parks and Recreation, parks and rec
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-26
Updated: 2017-05-26
Packaged: 2018-11-05 04:50:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11006346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meet_me_onthe_equinox/pseuds/meet_me_onthe_equinox
Summary: Of coffee shop encounters.





	Hard to Hate

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lunabelle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lunabelle/gifts).



> Requested by lunabelles on Tumblr as a ''meeting at a coffee shop AU'' :D

There she was again, sitting by herself at a small table in the back of the coffee shop. She would always come in at noon, order a cup of black coffee with no sugar at all, and then write non-stop on her laptop until five p.m. She would never talk to others, not even to the staff, since everyone who worked there already knew what her brew of choice was. She’d just sit and write, and, as busy as Andy was making lattes and waiting tables, the girl had him quite intrigued.

Every day, Andy found himself wanting to gather the courage to go and talk to her. There was just something about her, something that told him it would be fun to have at least one conversation with her, dig more into her life, into those huge eyes that gave away all her sadness. It wasn’t like she walked around with heavy steps; not once had he seen her eyes get watery while she stared out of the window. But she did stare, and did so as if the world outside had nothing to do with her. Scanning the street from her safe place, she seemed to be analyzing people, almost like she knew everything about them, even more than they knew themselves. And then, she would sigh, disappointed. Or wishful, maybe? Ugh, Andy really wished he could read her better.

Maybe he could find a way to address her, like, inventing a new flavor of milkshake so he would have something to offer. But, if she’d been drinking the same kind of coffee since day one, why would she ever pick differently? No. She was unapproachable. And, on the other hand, wasn’t that creepy? After all, he barely knew her. She should be to him like any other client. Except, of course, she wasn’t.

* * *

‘‘Excuse me, hmm, miss?’’ someone said next to her. It wasn’t one of her characters speaking, and unfamiliar voices were always annoying.

Begrudgingly, April lifted her head, even though whoever it was didn’t deserve such an effort.

‘‘What?’’ she snapped. But then she kind of regretted it.

Standing beside her was a huge man with sandy hair and a shy smile. She recognized him, of course: it was the youngest barista in that place, and the one who worked the hardest. Unlike the others, he got along well with every customer; he’d always be nice and kind with them, make them laugh with a funny joke, and give children funny straws of all colors. He’d also chat with those who seemed lonely. Except for her; he had always given her space, and for that she was grateful.

 ‘‘Sorry to interrupt, but we’re about to close,’’ he said, playing with a damp rag in his hands.

April looked around for the first time in God knew how long. Outside, the sun was already gone, and streetlights welcomed the night with their glow.

‘‘What? What time is it?’’

‘‘9:15’’

‘‘Really? Ugh…’’

That was the problem with writing: nothing else existed in the process, not even time itself.

‘‘Wait, don’t you guys close at nine?’’ she asked.

‘‘Yeah,’’ he shrugged. ‘‘But y’know… You seemed quite concentrated.’’

‘‘Well,’’ April closed the laptop lid. ‘‘I kind of was.’’

 _And you broke my damn focus_ , she almost added. That was the problem with people: they’d interrupt your writing.

‘‘Sorry about that,’’ he said. ‘‘I’m Andy, by the way.’’

‘‘April,’’ she shook the hand he’d held out for her. It was extremely warm, and a bit sweaty, too. April didn’t care. After all, physical flaws were meaningless.

‘‘Hey, uh… Can I ask you something?’’

‘‘I guess.’’

‘‘What are you always writing about?’’

Okay, she wasn’t going there. She never talked about her work, the same way she never revealed anything about her soul. Sometimes, April couldn’t even tell the difference between the two.

‘‘It’s none of your business,’’ she sneered. ‘‘Anyway, you have to close, right?’’

‘‘Yeah, but…’’

‘‘Good.’’

April packed her things, shouldered her bag and left the place without even looking at him. She would have to find another coffee shop to finish her novel.

* * *

Turns out, Wi-Fi wasn’t a popular thing among cafes in that part of Pawnee. The people in this town were incredibly outdated. They were just now getting into Nirvana, for God’s sake. Thus, April had had no other choice but to go to the same old place and hope no one would say a word to her.

 

‘‘That will be 17.80,’’ Joe said. He was another barista there, and, apart from his name, April knew he was a jerk who’d been fired from all of his previous jobs. She kept hoping he would get kicked out of here as well, but that never happened. Even though that gruesome mustache should be illegal in at least three States, including Indiana.

‘‘What? That’s not possible,’’ April told him. ‘‘I’ve only had one coffee, medium size.’’

Shit, that asshole couldn’t even count.

‘‘That’s not what this says,’’ Joe pointed at the monitor in front of him. ‘‘You have to pay for what you’ve had, ma’am.’’

‘‘I told you! That’s not what I-’’

‘‘Is there a problem here?’’

Andy, who had kept his distance the whole day –although it’d seemed to April he had looked at her once or twice– was now behind the bar, peering at the screen where orders were managed.

‘‘Yeah,’’ Joe answered. ‘‘This young lady won’t pay her bill, that’s the problem.’’

‘‘Well, that’s not my check, so…’’ April crossed her arms. Maybe she should leave without even paying what she really owed. Maybe she could work without Wi-Fi elsewhere from now on, and do the research at the library. Ugh, the thought of that…

‘‘She’s right, Joe,’’ Andy said. ‘‘This is table seven’s check. Hers is four.’’

‘‘I’m not so sure of that,’’ Joe frowned.

‘‘Well, I am. You seem kinda muddled, pal. Why don’t you go home early today?’’ Andy put one hand on his shoulder, subtly pushing him aside so he could be in charge of the cash register. ‘‘C’mon, take a walk, go get some fresh air.’’

Jerk Joe grunted at first, but eventually did as told.

‘‘See you tomorrow!’’ Andy shouted as he walked out. Always so nice, always so happy.

‘‘What a dick,’’ April muttered once Joe was gone. Now it was just the two of them – April had lost track of time again and the closing hour was near.

‘‘It’s 4.99,’’ Andy said to her.

She gave him the money and he put it in the cash. Now it was time to go, but, for some reason, she didn’t.

‘‘Thank you for that,’’ she looked down as she spoke.

‘‘Any time,’’ Andy gave her a warm smile. Gosh, that guy was, let’s say, hard to hate.

‘‘And… you know, sorry about yesterday. I’m kind of private with this,’’ April nodded towards her backpack, which she had placed on the bar.

‘‘Don’t worry. It was rude of me to ask, anyway.’’

He looked into her eyes, not judging, not searching for everything she wasn’t saying, not demanding a thing. Instead, Andy just half smiled at her, as if he wanted them to be friends, but had no idea where to start. But April wasn’t that clueless. There was actually a way he could know her better. The question was: was she willing to let him in?

‘‘It’s a novel,’’ she said, putting her coat on. ‘‘About this guy, who’s trying to make his way into the music industry, but, you know… stuff comes along.’’

Andy smiled wide at her. It wasn’t a victory smile, but a curious one.

‘‘What kind of stuff?’’ he asked, excitedly and… genuinely interested?

‘‘I reckon you’ll find out. Eventually. At the right time.’’

And, for the first time, April smiled back at him. She grabbed her things and walked out into the night. That coffee shop was fine, really. There was no need to find another one.


End file.
